The First Morning of Forever
by Moonraykir
Summary: Kili had been dead yesterday, before the Valar saw fit to return him to life, to Tauriel. After so many centuries, being alive again takes some getting used to, but Kili couldn't be happier. Just waking next to her once more is wonderful…
1. Chapter 1

Note: This little fic takes place the day after "Undying Lands." You can read it alone, but it will probably make more sense if you start with "Undying Lands."

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**The First Morning of Forever**

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Kíli woke, and oh, that was a fine thing in and of itself. He'd been dead, for nearly four hundred years before this, and the dead didn't wake; they didn't sleep.

But better yet was waking beside _her_ again. _Amrâlimê._ Thatrûna. His Tauriel.

Her pale, bare back was towards him, and slanting sunlight lit her freckled shoulder, blazed in outline behind her pillowed head. He slid closer and put an arm around her.

She stirred and snuggled against him. "Kíli."

"Good morning, my love," he said, and kissed her shoulder.

"I love you, Kíli."

By stone and stars, it felt so good to once more have her warm and real in his arms. Kíli suddenly wondered that he had not suffered more, alone and bodiless outside the halls of the dead. In his old life, he had thrived on all the cuddles and hugs and kisses heaped upon him by Tauriel and their children. It was a good thing his needs and awareness had shifted somewhat while he was dead, or he would have been utterly miserable waiting centuries without a single loving touch.

"By my calculation, it will take a hundred years of nothing but snuggles to make up for the time I've lost," he said.

"Indeed? And how do you reckon that?" Tauriel sounded amused.

"Well, suppose I used to sleep at least a quarter of a day, right? And I spent that time snuggled up next to you. So take a quarter of four hundred years, and you get one hundred."

"You were dead _almost_ four hundred," she corrected.

"Well." He kissed the back of her neck. "The extra few years are thrown in to round things out and account for for all the love you gave me the rest of the day."

"I see." She laid her arm over his. "Do you want to know the real reason I kept a wolfhound after I left Erebor?"

"Hmm?" He knew she had owned a series of hounds; while she had kept him company outside the Halls of Mandos, she had told him about her travels.

"I didn't know how to sleep without a warm, furry body pressed close to me."

Kíli laughed. "Is that the truth?"

"It is."

"My poor Tauriel!" He squeezed her to him.

"I loved my hounds. But not as I love my _hadhodeg_." She caressed his hand, fingernails skimming his skin.

Kíli shivered. After having spent such a long time without a body, he found that now even her simplest touch was a heady sensation. Making love to her last night— Well, he had felt all the overwhelming astonishment of a much younger dwarf discovering such passion for the first time.

Her fingers pressed his empty ring finger. "You're missing something," she said.

"I know." His fingers didn't feel right without the familiar weight of the gold wedding ring. It had, of course, been buried with him in Middle-earth. "First thing today, I'll find a forge and make a new one."

Tauriel hummed in amusement as Kíli kissed her shoulder, her neck.

"First thing?"

"All right, maybe second thing." His lips found her ear, closed on it in a teasing nibble. Tauriel made a happy sound and turned her head so he could reach more easily.

"You're wearing my earrings," he said as his nose touched silver. The first day she had visited him, he had noticed the plain silver rings in her ears and been warmed by her wish to keep him close.

"I didn't want my ears to forget you once you weren't there to bite them."

"I see." He took her ear in his teeth, pressing just enough to elicit a squeak of laughter.

She turned in his arms and leaned into him for a warm, open-mouthed kiss. "Now I can give them back," she said, her fingers moving to the catch of a silver earring.

Kíli felt a gentle tug and prick at his earlobe as she fitted the ring in place for him. "That's better, my handsome dwarf," she when she had placed the second. Tauriel stroked his cheek. "You know, I didn't have Gimli put holes in the ear of your statue."

"This just proves I'm still the same dwarf."

"I never doubted that."

"It _is_ strange to think that my body—my other one—is still in a tomb back in Erebor. I don't feel any different." He even had the same moles and freckles on his skin.

"Oh? Not even a little younger?" She combed a hand through his hair, lifting it in a shaft of sunlight to prove that not a hint of silver remained.

He laughed softly. "I didn't feel old when I was dead. Why would I? Besides, thanks to you, I never felt that old even when I was alive."

His bond to Tauriel had ensured that his final years had not brought much physical decline; he had simply felt he was reaching the end of his time. Bittersweet, yes, but not an altogether bad sensation. Part of him had been ready to follow his brother, his uncle, and mother. It was only as his naked spirit stood before the doors of those sacred halls that he had discovered the call of his departed kinsmen was nothing next to the tie that still bound him to his immortal wife.

"When you were alive?" Her eyes glittered with amusement. "You still are."

He could only laugh, long and hard till tears spilled over his cheeks. "Wonderful, isn't it? How do I even talk about myself, though? 'In my first life—'" He snorted at how absurd that sounded.

Tauriel brushed at his tears. "An elf would say, 'During my first embodiment.' It is all one lifetime."

"That's right; this is normal for you elves. Well, I'm the first dwarf who has ever gotten a second body—I mean, besides the great Durin himself, of course. Maker! I'm practically a legend!"

She giggled. "Kíli, you lived past seven hundred years and produced thirteen children with an elf. You're already a legend, like it or not." She kissed him. "Everywhere I traveled, among elves, dwarves, or men, they'd heard of us: Kíli of Elven Years and Tauriel of Durin's Line."

"Maker," he breathed again. Of course, he'd known even during his time in Middle-earth that his union with Tauriel was special, but still it was staggering to think about the cosmic significance of it. Their love had reconciled the ages of strife between their races, and as a result, they had been blessed tremendously with their family and his long life. But Kíli had never set out to do anything nearly so grand. He'd simply been unable to help falling in love with her. And oh, how wildly he loved her still.

"Your scars are gone," Tauriel said, running a hand up his arm, where a long welt had once marked the slash of an Easterling blade.

"All but one." He smiled. "Admit it; you like this one because it makes me look just a little like old Mister Dwalin, Mahal bless him."

She laughed; Kíli knew that she had always found preposterous any suggestion that Kíli would be improved by looking more like his rugged cousin, despite the fact that as a young dwarf, he had been determined to emulate Dwalin's appearance.

"It does lend you a certain reckless distinction," she said, tracing his scarred cheekbone.

"Well, I'm glad for it," he said. "Gimli still has all his battle scars, and I'd be ashamed if I didn't have at least one to show for myself." He winked at her. As they both well knew, this scar was the reminder of a rather different sort of battle than one fought with bow or blade.

"Gimli did offer to make you taller," Tauriel said.

"No!" He stared at her in mock horror.

"You wouldn't have enjoyed looking down on me for once?"

"The view is perfect from where I stand already."

Tauriel snorted in delight. "I knew you'd say that." She combed his hair back from his forehead. "You're perfect, too, _hadhodeg_."

He turned over so that she lay beneath him, but he didn't lean down for another kiss just yet. It was enough only to look at her. Had she grown more beautiful since he'd first been reunited with her here in Aman? No, even in Middle-earth she had been this breathtaking. It was just that now she was fully happy again.

"Yes, Kíli?" she prompted.

He smiled. "_Amrâlimê_, I was thinking that you are the fairest _elleth_ in all the Undying Lands; I'm sure of it."

"Ah." Her green eyes sparkled with pleasure and amusement. "And I would declare you the handsomest dwarf this side of the Sea, but that is not nearly so fine a compliment as yours." Tauriel pressed her hands up his arms and over his back. "So instead, let me say that you surely have the broadest pair of shoulders in Eldamar. And—" She trailed one hand forward around his neck, then on down his torso. "—the shaggiest chest. What more could an _elleth_ want?"

He chuckled. "I can think of something else."

"Indeed?"

Kíli rocked his hips against her in demonstration. "I can assure you it's every bit as exemplary as the rest of me."

"Is it?" She shifted, hugging his waist with her thighs. "You'd best show me— Oh!"

She shivered in unison with him as their bodies joined.

"Valar, Tauriel, I'm still not used to being—"

"I can't believe this still feels so—"

They froze, both overcome, and then Tauriel laughed, clasping her arms tight about him. "Aren't we ridiculous? You'd think us both maids and this our first coupling. Even after last night, we're hopeless."

Kíli winced, though certainly not from pain. "Damn it, stop laughing, or I'll lose my wits!"

She only giggled more. "Whoever thought we'd forget how good we are together? We're out of practice!"

Kíli leaned forward to kiss her, somehow keeping his head despite the wild and delightful sensations this motion produced. "It's a good thing we have forever to catch up, then," he said.

Her eyes gleamed with happy tears. "Yes, Kíli. Forever."

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Author's note:

_hadhodeg - _"my little dwarf"

Historically, the word _maid_ was used to mean a virgin of either sex. As Tolkien did, I try to stick with words of Germanic origin (as opposed to Latinate origin) when I can since Middle-earth is a mythological version of pre-Norman England. I followed the same reasoning when I chose _embodiment_ over _incarnation_. Words are so fun, and I love thinking about where they come from.

Here's a sweet little reunion scene that covers some of the things I imagine for Kíli and Tauriel's future. This turned out to be a good way to address the end of Kíli's life without actually writing any sad scenes! I hope you also enjoyed hearing what a dwarf thinks of being reembodied like an elf. I had fun exploring how Kíli experienced being dead. Also, here's the final count on the dwelflings… And yes, 13 is still considered a dozen (see chapter 1 of Shenanigans!) by dwarven reckoning, so it seems Kíli got his wish after all.

I have some ideas for a short story set during the War of the Ring (where Kíli picked up the scar on his arm), and maybe some day I'll get around to writing that.


	2. Chapter 2

When they had risen and Tauriel was choosing a gown, Kíli searched for a comb on her dressing table. The top was untidy, evidence of her preoccupation while she had waited with him outside the halls of the dead. A ribbon tangled with an empty wine glass and a pen; hair beads lay scattered among spilled wax from a candle stub. His runestone lay on an open book—he remembered placing it there before he'd tumbled Tauriel into bed the night before.

There! propped carefully against the mirror was a silver comb, the one he had given her at the beginning of their courtship. Its edges were softened from years of handling, but the flowering vine he had carved into it was still distinct, the tiny sapphires still bright. He lifted it and accidentally knocked a small crystal vial that had stood hidden behind a handkerchief.

Kíli righted the vial, then picked it up, suddenly curious. Tauriel had never worn perfume when he had lived with her. (As far as he was concerned, no artificial fragrance could have been as lovely as the natural scent of her skin. She smelled of deep forest groves: the spicy green scent of tree resin and oak moss, touched by the sweetness of some flower or berry.) Yet this could only be a perfume vial; it was too small for a bath oil or lotion.

He lifted the stopper and inhaled the lush aroma of roses. Kíli smiled, remembering the garden he and Tauriel had planted on the shoulders of Erebor. Over the years, they had filled it with many beautiful trees and plants, some from their own part of Wilderland and others collected on their travels. But the roses had always been Tauriel's favorite: she and Kíli had been surrounded by those same flowers on their wedding night, and so, whether growing in the garden or cut to adorn their home, roses had always been a private sign of the happiness they found in each other.

Ah, but there was another note to the perfume, one that had first been hidden by the rich florals: the sharp, dry note of cedar. Smelling it, he was instantly transported back to hot baths in the copper tub of their royal suite. He had always used a cedar-scented bath oil, and Tauriel had once said it made him smell almost like an elf. His throat constricted as he imagined the longing that had surely prompted his _amrâlimê_ to seek this reminder of his physical presence after he was gone.

"I see you found my bottle of memories," Tauriel said behind him. Glancing up, he caught her wistful look in the mirror.

"I have." He turned towards her. "It's missing something, though."

"Is it?" The corner of her mouth quirked slightly, a telltale sign that she was waiting for the end of his jest before she let herself smile.

Kíli said, "It smells of your favorite dwarf. And a bed of roses—"

Her lip twitched at his obvious pun.

"—but that's only half a memory."

Kíli dabbed the perfume oil onto his finger, then touched it behind each of her ears and between her breasts. After setting the vial carefully back on the dressing table, he pulled her into his arms and inhaled, tucking his face beneath her chin.

"Ah, I remember the other half now: my favorite elf was there, too." Against her skin, the heady rose and bright cedar softened into harmony with her own familiar scent.

Tauriel slipped her arms around him. "There are a lot of memories in that bottle. Which one do you mean?" Her expression was teasingly serious, her brow furrowed.

"I'll show you later. Tonight." He winked. "For now, I need breakfast. And a new wedding ring."

Her smile broke free at last, and she laughed.

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Author's note:

This little scene was inspired by my own love of perfumes. I collect fantasy themed perfume oils; I even have a few inspired by Hobbit characters. Tauriel's cedar and rose perfume in this fic was inspired by my current favorite perfume oil by Deep Midnight Perfumes, Faceless Girl. It's a really sophisticated, sexy scent with a floral, woodsy profile. I think of it as my Kiliel perfume because the top notes are rose and cedar, two scents that are important to Kíli and Tauriel's romance.

Cedar as Kíli's scent is hinted at in chapter 29 of _So Comes Snow After Fire_, as well as in a few of the little vignettes that go with the art in this fic series. (He smells like cedar the morning after his wedding because on the previous day, he had bathed very carefully to make sure he cleaned off all of the boar grease left over from the bachelor party!) And of course they had roses on their wedding night, as well as the night Galadion was conceived.

You can find Deep Midnight Perfume's fragrance collection at DeepMidnightPerfumes dot com. Cat Marx does beautiful work with her perfumes, and I recommend them! She has a Middle-earth collection, including a Tauriel scent called Forest Daughter. Faceless Girl is actually from a Game of Thrones perfume series, too.


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